


Battle of Who Could Care Less

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: Band Fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Being in bands that rival each other but secretly dating</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (This is my second band fic. Need to put the first one up!) 
> 
> This reminded me of why I don’t do prompts very often … I can’t just plop the characters in a plot and bang it out. I’ve got to come up with all the rest and it turns into a behemoth …

Rae walked up to their usual table at the pub and slapped a poster down in front of Chloe and Izzy.

Chloe glanced at it, then groaned. “Not this again!”

Izzy made a face “They beat us every time! Maybe we should just hang up our instruments and call it a day.”

“What? No way!” Rae clutched the flyer for the quarterly Battle of the Bands at The Cellar in her fist and said, “If we always came last, I’d agree, but we’ve come second the last three times. I’m tired of being number two!” she shouted.

“Eat more fiber, love!” a drunk at the bar slurred loudly.

Rae shook her head, still fired up. “I think we need to really kick into high gear this time.”

Chloe crossed her arms and leaned back against the booth. “Oh, really? You prepared to do what’s necessary, then? Finally?”

Rae’s eyes widened, her brow furrowed, lips pressed together anxiously.

“I—I don’t think that’ll be … I mean, you’ve got an amazin’ voice, Chlo, and you’ve got the LOOK, y’know? That’s half of it, and the half I don’t have.”

“Rae, that’s a load of cobblers. You sing twice as good as I do, and if you’d just let me style you up a bit … Izzy and I have been DYING to get our hands on your hair.” Izzy nodded solemnly while Chloe waggled her eyebrows and reached out to twirl a piece of it in her fingers.

Rae swatted her hand away. “Get off!”

“Okay, fine. But here’s the deal. We’re not entering Battle of the Sodding Bands again, unless YOU are our lead singer. And I pick out your outfit.” Chloe pursed her lips and flared her nostrils, the “End of” was silent but implied.

Rae looked to Izzy with pleading eyes. The redhead shook her head sadly. “Sorry, babes, but I’m with Chloe on this one. If we’re gonna stand a chance to beat ‘em, you’ve gotta be our frontman. Woman. Person. Whatever.” She shook her head to clear it. “Point is, it’s gotta be you, Rae.”

Rae unclenched her fist and smoothed out the flyer, sighing. She wanted to taste victory just once in her life, but wasn’t sure she was prepared to look like a fool in order to do it.

Just then, the pub door opened. Rae turned her head to see a group of three lads from the year above tumble in, laughing. The fittest of them caught her eye and scoffed. Rae saw red, and spun back to her mates. “Fine, I’m in. Rehearsals tomorrow, six o’clock. Mrs. Denton’s goin’ to let us have the music room for an hour.”

Chloe and Izzy gave each other a surprised look, but nodded.

Rae looked back at the trio, gleefully guzzling pints. “It is ON,” she whispered to herself.

* * * * *

_Thirty minutes before …_

Finn strode along the high street, humming along to the eels’ version of [Oh What a Beautiful Morning](https://youtu.be/zxGzmfmBjRE?t=1m45s) that was playing in his head. As he neared the chippy, he pulled the flyer out of his pocket to be at the ready. Then, he slammed it against the window, right next to Chop and Archie’s table, pointing at it as Archie adjusted his glasses to read it and Chop squinted at him in annoyance for startling him while he was hungover.

Finn removed the paper from the glass and darted inside to join his friends. “What d’ya think, lads? You up for maintaining our status as the Best Band in Lincolnshire?”

Archie scoffed. “It’s barely a competition, mate. Maybe we should give it a miss an’ let someone else wear the crown for a few months.”

Finn looked at Archie disbelievingly. “You what? This would be the fourth consecutive win … a full year of musical dominance!”

Chop and Archie shrugged in affirmation, which was good enough for Finn. “Alrigh’ then. That’s more like it.”

“Plus, maybe I could get that redhead from Social Quotient’s number!” Chop’s eyebrows did a jig as he bit his lip with his gapped teeth. Archie laughed, shaking his head. Finn, however, was not amused.

“No. Absolutely no fuckin’ way. We can’t fraternize with the enemy!”

Chop’s blue eyes grew wide and Archie held up a hand. “Now, hang on, Finn. They’re not exactly the enemy, are they? It’s a friendly competition, right? You’re just sore because—“

Finn cut Archie off. “—I’m not sore about anythin’, alright? I just don’t think it’s a good idea. We need to focus on winnin’, not … gettin’ in their knickers.” He stood up, grabbed a soda from the case and slammed a pound coin on the counter as he left.

Chop and Archie looked at each other, eyebrows raised. “He’s totally sore because she never called him,” Archie said, returning to his history book.

* * * * *

_Ten months ago …_

Dear Diary,

I’m so glad I convinced Chloe and Izzy to form a band! I had to let Chloe name it, which might have been a huge mistake, but I don’t even care because now we’re going to play Battle of the Bands next month! You need to have a five-song set for Battle of the Band, but the audience can boo you off the stage at any time. If we make it through one song, I’m calling it a victory!

* * * * *

_Nine and a half months ago …_

Dear Diary,

Last night at the pub, we met some really fit lads. Of course, they started chatting to Chloe and Izzy, and only talked to me because I was there, but this one, I think his name was Finn, we ended up having this totally intense debate about Bowie. As they were getting ready to leave, I saw him drop a piece of paper. I think it had his phone number on it, so I slid it back into his bag. I wouldn’t want some total rando calling me up saying, “I found your number on the floor of the pub” and leering down the phone or whatever.

* * * * *

_Nine months ago …_

Dear Diary,

Tonight was BATTLE OF THE BANDS!!! It was awesome, amazing, and every other fantastic adjective you can think of!

Well, mostly. Our set was great! We lasted all five songs! In fact, we came in second! And you won’t believe who won … it was those blokes we met a couple of weeks ago! Their band is called Whip-smart. I guess the competition made them really focused or something, because I tried to wave hello when I saw them backstage, but the gap-toothed one and the one with glasses only half-nodded, and Finn (?) totally ignored me. Oh, well.

Still, SECOND-PLACE!!! That’s totally awesome for our first time!

* * * * *

_Eight months and three weeks ago …_

Dear Diary,

Pub tonight. We ran into our opponents again … the ones from the Battle of the Bands? Yeah, I think we caught them on a good night that first time, because they acted totally weird again. I could tell Gap-Tooth wanted to talk to Izzy, but his friend, who I will now call Mr. Mardy Bum due to the mournful look he was wearing all night, seemed to be holding him back. Mr. MB also cut me off at the jukebox, and I had a pocketful of 20ps. Still, he didn’t pick bad stuff, which was a relief.

Just seems strange they wouldn’t even talk to us, after that first time of us all getting along … but Chloe found plenty of consolation.

* * * * *

Finn kicked a chunk of loose pavement all the way down the street, till he lost it in a drain. He wasn’t thinking about her. He didn’t care if she played the guitar like a demon. He certainly wasn’t bothered if her hair caught the stage lights and glowed like a halo. And he absolutely didn’t mind it when she not only didn’t take his phone number but actually put it back in his bag. Like she was so turned off she couldn’t even have it on her person and throw it away when she got home.

They’d played with a vengeance, well,  _he_  had, anyway, that first show, and then every time after it was like he had to prove he was the best. He knew it was like being a big fish in a small pond, but she and her band were good, too. He just didn’t want them to be better.

And now, well, he didn’t care that she seemed to want to be friendly with him. That was of no concern of his. He had plenty of friends, and … he didn’t care.

He shoved the front door open when he got home, kicked off his boots, and headed upstairs to work on the set list. Five songs. They had to be new (for them) and they had to be good. They had to win.

* * * * *

Before rehearsal the next day, Rae was nervous. Chloe and Izzy were adamant that she should be singing lead, instead of humming on the ones and twos like she usually did. Chloe just looked so right for the part, and could wear every cool thing Rae knew she could never pull off. But she knew her friends wouldn’t back down.

To calm her nerves, she headed to the record shop. A quick flick through Recent Acquisitions always slowed her heart rate and chilled her out. Of course, today, Mr. Mardy Bum had to be there already, pouting his stupid lips in concentration, messy hair falling into his dumb brown eyes. She almost turned on her heel to walk out, but she took a deep breath and kept her course. Their eyes met for a second, and she couldn’t read his expression, but she knew he didn’t like her, so it didn’t matter.

She ducked her head and started from the bottom of the wall display where recent stock (new and used) hung out for a week or two before moving into a category on the floor. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, and that’s what she liked. Not knowing what she might find.

After ten minutes, she sensed someone standing near her and glanced up to find Finn skirting the far edge of the section.

_This is stupid_ , she decided.  _We can at least be civil._  “I assume I’ll see you at Battle of the Bands?” she tried to keep any tone out of her voice, and smiled at the end. He wasn’t looking up to see it, so it didn’t matter.

“Wouldn’t miss another chance to be champions. You havin’ another go?” he asked, peering at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Yep. You look a little too comfortable up there; gotta keep tryin’ to knock you off your throne.” She smiled for real this time, and she could sense his head turn to look at her.

He merely scoffed.

Then, Rae mused out loud. “It’s so weird; this stupid rivalry. I’m not even sure how it started. I remember we had fun the first time we met, but between then and that first Battle of the Bands …” She shrugged and looked over to meet his eyes. “Seems a shame, is all.”

“Well, I thought we had fun, too, until you made it clear you weren’t interested in gettin’ to know me any better.” Finn mumbled. Rae had to strain to hear him and replay his words in her brain until they made sense.

“What are you ON about?” she asked, genuinely perplexed.

Finn squirmed, visibly uncomfortable. “Just …” He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure why I remember this, but …” He coughed. “I think I said we should hang out sometime and you said something like, ‘Sure’ and I said you should call me. Then, your redheaded friend—“

“—Izzy.”

“—Yeah, that’s her. She asked you a question. While you were talkin’ to her, I wrote my number on a piece of paper and put it in front of you. The next thing I knew, I found it back in my bag, which I took as a pretty clear ‘No thanks.’” He picked up a cd case and flipped it over to examine the back. “Y’know, no big deal. Just don’t like to waste people’s time.”

Rae felt the blood drain from her face. How could she have been so stupid? Well, nothing like that had ever happened to her before. No one had ever wanted her to call them before, so how was she to know?

“I found it on the floor as we were leavin’ …” she said, dazed. “I—I thought you’d dropped it, and I thought I … thought I was doin’ you a favor. Y’know, so no weirdo found it and called you.”

Finn’s eyebrows twisted into confusion. “What? But we said …” He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. “Why would I carry around a paper with my name and number on it?”

“In case you lost your rucksack?” Rae said the first thing that came to her mind.

Finn laughed out loud, and though she didn’t like being laughed at, his mirth didn’t seem mean-spirited. His laugh was one of incredulity.

“Well, I didn’t know, did I? Nobody’s ever given me their number before! I didn’t see it on the table; it fell on the floor! How am  _I_  supposed to assume that anyone wants me to call them?”

Finn stopped laughing at this. “Rae, you’re … who wouldn’t want to hang out with you?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about … the vast majority of everyone I’ve ever met?” She wasn’t mad or even sad about this, just exasperated that she’d missed out on this opportunity because of her past.

Finn dropped his head and bounced a fist off of his thigh. “Shit,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“What?” she asked.

“Just, I’m sorry. I acted like a stupid kid. I thought you were telling me you weren’t interested, so I just …”

“… Acted like you weren’t interested right back.” Rae sighed. “I get it. I probably would’ve done the same. But then, I  _never_  would have given you my number, unless you explicitly asked me for it, and even then, you probably would have had to ask me two more times and write it down yourself.”

There was a long silence between the two of them. Finally, Finn broke it to ask, “Rae, can I have your number?”

“Huh?”

“Rae, what’s your last name?”

“Um, Earl.”

“Rae Earl, can I have your number?”

She shook her head slowly as a smile crept across her features.

“ _May_  I have your number?”

Now she was grinning as she looked over one shoulder back at the rest of the store, seeing if anyone was witness to this turn of events. When she focused on Finn again, he had a pen and the back of the Battle of the Bands poster, ready to write down every digit.

* * * * *

When she showed up five minutes late to rehearsal, Chloe and Izzy were both crossing their arms and tapping their feet impatiently. “What’s up wi’ you?” Izzy asked. “You’re never late.”

“Yeah, I, uh, ran into someone and time got away from me.” She ducked her head to busy herself with taking her guitar out of its case, hoisting the strap over her head, plugging in the amp.

“Who?” Chloe demanded.

“Uhhh, just … Danny! From group. He could talk the back leg off a donkey, you remember.” She played an experimental riff to warm up, check the tuning.

Chloe narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but seemed satisfied. “Okay, so. You’re singin’ this time, yeah? We should probably start with something we’ve tried but didn’t play at the show before. Rae? Any thoughts?”

Rae nodded and started humming, then strumming. Izzy recognized the opening, and got on the hi-hat, matching the rhythm with a beat. Chloe filled in with bass and Rae started singing:

> _[I would love to be better](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BysqeyKiDlA) _
> 
> _[I would love to be free](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BysqeyKiDlA) _
> 
> _[I would love to be perfect](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BysqeyKiDlA) _
> 
> _[When you look at me …](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BysqeyKiDlA) _

When they finished “Why Do I Lie?” Rae felt guilty, she’d lied just before the song and she’d lie again before the Battle of the Bands, but for now, they had the first song of their set.

* * * * *

Across town, Finn was early for practice, setting levels, humming another cheery tune. Archie showed up next and eyed him suspiciously. “What’re you so happy about?” he asked, grabbing his guitar from the case.

“Hmm? Oh, nothin’. Just … happy in general, I guess. Generally just pretty happy today.”

Archie plugged in his guitar. “Well, cut it out. You’re makin’ me nervous.”

Chop bounded in to the garage, still greasy from the garage where he worked, “Not too late am I?”

“Nah, you’re bang on time, mate.” Finn clapped him on the shoulder affectionately, and Chop gave Archie a bewildered look over Finn’s shoulder.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked. “Why’re you so bloody … cheery? You’re never cheery; you’re a grumpy guts.”

Finn shook his head. “I’m not  _that_  bad, am I?”

Archie and Chop exchanged another knowing look, but kept stumm.

“Let’s just play through the new set, shall we? Cut out all the commentary on my moods,” Finn said, somewhat grumpily, which mollified his friends. This was the bloke they were used to. Moody and intense, but predictable about it.

Chop peeled off the top of his coveralls, tied the arms around his waist and sat behind the drums, counting off, “1, 2, 3, 4!”

* * * * *

At home that night, Finn was smiling dreamily up at his ceiling. It was the strangest thing to find out that someone you thought hated you and you tried to hate right back in fact didn’t hate you at all and might even like you. Thank god she was ballsy enough to say something. To pointedly ask him what the deal was. He’d gotten so wrapped around the axle with the situation, he’d never have been able to do it himself.

He sat up and pulled his bag up onto his bed, unzipped the outer pocket and gingerly extracted the paper with her number on it. It had been … he counted on his fingers, 1, 2, 3, 4, 4 and a half hours since he’d last seen her. They’d walked out of the record shop together and stood talking in the street for a bit, until she realized she was running late for practice. They’d gotten as far as agreeing to keep their … whatever this was … to themselves, just until they figured out if it was worth telling anyone about. There was that awkward moment where they both looked at each other, leaning forward on the balls of their feet, not sure what to do. Finn had reached out to squeeze her hand and she smiled gratefully. “I’ll call you later,” he said as she turned to rush back to school.

**9:56** , his digital clock read. If he wanted to call her tonight, he had four minutes to do it, His nan always told him that calling people at home after 10 o’clock was rude. It seemed a logical rule, and he’d always kept to it.

**9:57**. If he didn’t call her now, he supposed he might see her at college. But he had pretty handily avoided her in the halls, so he didn’t have any idea of her schedule or even where her locker was.

**9:58**. “Fuck it,” he breathed, grabbing the cordless handset from it’s base and taking a deep breath before deliberately dialing each number. The phone was ringing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

**9:59**. “Hello?” It was her. Her voice sounded breathy and a little higher than in person, but it was her.

“Hi, um, it’s Finn. From this afternoon.” He squeezed his already shut eyes a little bit tighter, then opened them to find a pen to doodle with while he tried to talk.

“Oh! Uh, hiya. Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah! Everythin’s …” The word amazing sprung to mind but he settled on “… great. I just thought … well, I really just wanted to say good night and thanks, really.”

“Thanks for what?”

“For sayin’ somethin’, for makin’ me realize what a twat I’ve been, for … well, for that, really. For givin’ me another chance.”

“Oh … well. You’re welcome, I suppose.”

The phone line hummed into the silence.

“And, I guess, I were wondering … what’s your first class? Since I was sort of tryin’ to ignore ya, I have no idea where your classes are.”

A laugh came down the line. “Yeah, funny that. I’ve got English first thing, Mr. Kapoor. But …”

“Hmmm?” Was she already regretting giving him her number?

“If we’re keeping this ‘under the radar’—at least to start—maybe we shouldn’t meet up in the halls?”

Yeah. She had a good point. Finn chewed his lip, thinking.

“But, if you want …” she started.

“Yeah?” he answered eagerly. He wanted whatever she was offering.

“We could meet up for pre-college tea. Or coffee. Or whatever. I mean—“

“Yeah. Yes. Let’s do that. Where?”

“Oh, ummmmm … that coffee shop at the top of the high street? I don’t think many people from college go there.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow morning at . . ?” He trailed off, waiting for her to set the time.

“Eight?”

“Eight. See you then, then.” He smiled, and looked down at his desk, where he’d drawn a crude likeness of her, mainly a mane of hair. “Good night, Rae.”

“Good night, Finn,” she echoed; her voice sounded warm.

He smiled to himself as she hung up, even as the phone started beeping at him. His smile disappeared when he realized that they could have been having conversations every night for almost a year, if he hadn’t been such a grumpy guts, as Chop had put it. He sighed, and pulled his legs up on the bed, fingers strumming the tune to [Sulk](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BysqeyKiDlA), hoping he’d changed today.


	2. Chapter 2

Rae hadn’t slept much; she was too anxious thinking about her meeting with Finn. Imagining ways she could screw it up, wondering if this was some weird ploy for him to distract her from the Battle next month, hoping he wouldn’t tell his mates about it.

She got to the coffee shop five minutes early, and found Finn already waiting for her, leaned up against the brick outside while he tapped his hand on his knee. When he saw her, he pushed off the wall and gave her a big smile. Her stomach flipped while she struggled to put a grin on her own face. Her body didn’t seem to want to cooperate with her today.

“Mornin’,” he said, as he approached. Rae thought he might hug her, but he stopped just short and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before exhaling, “Shall we?”

Rae nodded and glanced around the street to make sure no one saw them. She didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. The two of them had been pretty well-known rivals at school for nearly a year. The girls all guessed that she was sore about always coming second in the competition, and she’d been told more than once that she must secretly have a crush on him, the way she carried on about him. Somehow, no one ever suggested that Finn had a crush on Rae. So, if they were ‘caught’ as it were, fraternizing or whatever … she felt she had more to lose than he did. Gossip around school was never kind to her, whereas golden boy Finn Nelson could do no wrong. She felt a flash of her freshly faded frustration with him shiver through her.

“Everythin’ alright?” Finn asked, noticing her hesitation to follow him.

“Uhh, yeah, sorry. Late night combined with an early mornin’. Just a little tired, is all.” She flashed him a quick smile and then glanced down as she glided past him into the coffee shop.

For eight o’clock on a Thursday morning, the shop was actually kind of dead. Only a few tables were occupied, by middle-aged women and pensioners.

Rae looked up at the chalkboard menu behind the counter. She was hungry, but wouldn’t risk eating anything in front of Finn. She glanced over to see him giving her a curious look. “What?” she asked defensively.

“Nothin’! Just wonderin’ why you had a late night, is all. I—I didn’t call too late, did I?”

“No! I was just … listenin’ to some songs, workin’ on our set. I’m sure you know how time can slip away from ya.” She bit her lip, “Why Do I Lie?” playing in her head.

“Yeah, totally,” he agreed.

The woman at the counter sighed at them with a look that said, “Well? What’re ya havin’?”

They looked at each other, both gesturing for the other to go ahead. Finally, Rae stepped forward. “Uh, I’ll just have a regular coffee, please.”

“Will ya be wantin’ cream?” The woman asked, not looking up from the paper where she was writing down the order.

“Um, yes, please.” She stepped to the side a bit, so Finn could order.

He looked at her before approaching the counter. “Is that all you’re havin’?” he asked.

“Yeah, I had some toast at home. I’m good.”

He paused another moment before ordering for himself: coffee and a bun.

“Are you two together?” the woman asked.

Rae started to shake her head, but Finn said, “Yeah, thanks” and paid for both of them.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said under her breath.

“I know,” Finn replied. “But  _I’m_  the one who got my knickers in a right twist over something so stupid, so I can at least buy you a coffee, yeah?”

Rae bit her lip. “Alright, sure, thanks.” Her eyes darted around the coffee shop once more.

* * * * *

He could see that she was nervous, and she had every right to be. He really had been a total prick to her for the better part of a year. He hadn’t slept very well last night, either. Instead of sleeping, once he’d gotten over the high of talking to her and making a plan to meet, he’d been plagued by memories of their interactions over the past ten months.

All the snubs, all the snipes, all the rolled eyes and muttered oaths. Looking back, he was ashamed to admit he was the one who started this thing; he was the one who turned away when she clearly tried to reach out more than once.

And, then, something else occurred to him. That maybe she’d started to see him as just the same as those twats at school who teased her about … everything. Who kept after her just because she was apparently an easy target, though he really couldn’t see why. She was so … fucking … cool. Every time he saw her perform at the Battle of the Bands, he got this thrill through his veins as she played her solos. He strained to hear her voice on the chorus. From the safety of the dark on the side of the stage, he stared at her unashamed. And behind his own stupid pride at feeling rejected, he was proud of her for stepping out there on the stage and, well, owning it.

All these thoughts swirled through his mind again as they waited for their coffees. The silence was awkward, and Rae cleared her throat.

“Look,” he started. “I’m really sorry, okay?”

She looked at him, alarmed, and tightened her grip on her backpack.

“I was an utter prick, and you … you were … ARE, so much better than that. I mean, I shouldn’t’ve … well, I can’t change the past, but I just wanted you t’know, I’m sorry.”

She relaxed a fraction, her expression smoothed over. “Oh! Well, yeah. You were, a bit. But, like,” she shrugged, “it’s not like I’m not used to it. On the scale of utter pricks, you barely registered most days.” She laughed weakly at her own joke.

A flare of anger flashed through Finn. “That’s not … that’s not right. You didn’t deserve it from me; you don’t deserve that from anyone.” He looked down at his boots and kicked the right toe against the rubber strip at the bottom of the counter.

The milk steamer for someone’s cappuccino whistled into the silent void between them.

When it died down, Rae said, “Hi, I’m Rae. As in Rachel.” She stuck out her hand for Finn to shake; it covered his view of his boot as she did it. He glanced from her hand to her face, looking to see what expression she wore. If this were some weird joke, she’d be rolling her hazel eyes, but … it must not be a joke, because she was smiling and looking right at him.

“What?” he asked.

“I’ve seen this in movies or whatever. When two characters get off on the wrong foot, they reintroduce themselves. Start fresh, or whatever. So … Hi.” Her hand was still reaching towards him, and he gripped it firmly with his own, looking her in the eye as he said, “Hello, Rae, I’m Finn. It’s great to meet you.”

* * * * *

Their coffees had been ready for a couple of minutes, but the woman behind the counter hadn’t wanted to interrupt them, apparently.

They carried them over to a table, and silently set about making them drinkable with cream and sugar. Finn picked at his bun. Now that they’d given themselves a reset, she wasn’t sure what to talk about.

Finn looked up with an expression of, “Oh, I know!” and asked, “What’re you playin’ for Battle of the Bands?”

Rae pressed her lips together into a secretive smile and shook her head slowly. “You’re not gettin’ anythin’ out of me on that subject. Least, not as easy as that.”

Finn assumed an innocent expression. “I were just curious. We’ve never played the same stuff before; I certainly wouldn’t start now.” He smiled down at his coffee sheepishly. “I can see how you might think I was fishin’ for somethin’, though.”

Rae fidgeted her fingers against the handle of her coffee mug. “All I’ll say is, we’re only plannin’ on playin’ songs by girl bands.”

Finn looked up. “Yeah? That’s cool. Good idea, I mean.” He seemed nervous, but Rae couldn’t figure out why. She was almost always nervous, but this feeling was a little different. Like, she had some control over how this went, and she didn’t want to fuck it up. Usually, her nervousness was of the helpless variety; she just hoped she’d get through whatever happened that day relatively unscathed. In this case, though, she could actually screw up.

“Ummm,” she hummed thoughtfully. “It’s after half-eight. Do you wanna go first, or should I?”

Finn gave her a sharp look of confusion.

“Well, we can’t walk to school together unless you wanna answer a lot of questions,” she reasoned. “And I don’t.”

“That’s a fair point,” Finn sighed. “I guess I could …” he crammed half of his pastry in his mouth, but Rae shook her head, taking a gulp of her coffee.

“I’ll go,” she said. “You finish up.” She stood up, swinging her bag onto her shoulder.

Finn coughed as he tried to swallow the crumbs. “Wait,” he wheezed. “When will I see you again?”

Rae allowed herself a small smile. “Well, now. That all depends, doesn’t it?” She walked to the door and looked back at him over her shoulder. “Call me later. But not too much later.”

He nodded and waved, and Rae walked to school feeling like she aced a test on her birthday. For once, she’d played something right.

* * * * *

When he arrived at school, he saw Archie was waiting in his usual spot, nose in a book. Finn snuck up behind his friend and ruffled his hair playfully. “Mornin’, mate!” he said, smiling as he plonked down opposite him at the outdoor table.

“Oi!” Archie protested, making sure to mark his page before fixing his hair. “What’s up wi’ you again?” He clocked Finn’s grin. “Or is it  _still_?” He put his book down and adjusted his glasses. “It’s a girl, isn’t it,” he said, matter-of-factly. “You’re in one of the three Ls, anyway.”

“Three Ls?” Finn echoed, annoyed.

“Like, Lust, or Love.” Archie shrugged and stowed his book in his messenger bag. “Read it in me mum’s Grazia on the loo.”

Finn scoffed. “That’s a load of … I’m not. I’m just …” He searched for a word. “Things’re looking up, let’s just say.”

“Mmmm-hmmmm, sure.” Archie didn’t seem convinced. Rightly. Because Finn was in at least two of the three Ls. Probably all three.

“Hey, I was thinkin’ about changin’ up the setlist from the other day,” Finn ventured, hoping he sounded casual enough.

“Why? I thought it was ace!” Archie said.

“Yeah, it was … okay. I think I want to do something unexpected … like, outside the box.”

“We might not win,” Archie warned him, eyebrows raised. “I thought we were trying to maintain our title.”

“Well, I still want to, obviously, but … I just think we could branch out a bit. Just … trust me, okay?”

Archie shrugged, “Whatever you say, mate. You’re the one who wants to win so bad.”

Finn nodded, and thought that for the first time since he’d started playing at these gigs, that there was something that could be better than winning. Something worth more.

* * * * *

At the end of practice that night, Rae was rushing to put her stuff away, in case Finn called earlier than expected. Izzy played a farewell ba-dum-chee on the drum kit before tossing a quick “See ya laters!” over her shoulder.

“Rae, you sound great!” Chloe said proudly. “I knew you would.”

“Yeah, well. I sound okay in a closed rehearsal room, sure. But it’s a world of difference from a stage in front of a hundred people, who are all expecting YOU to sing.” Rae shook her head, worry bubbling in her gut once again.

“Babes, you’re gonna knock ‘em dead,” Chloe assured her. “They’ll forget I’m even on the stage.”

Rae shook her head more vehemently. “I—I’ve got to work up to … I appreciate it, but … it’s gonna take me a little while. But thanks. Thanks a lot.” She awkwardly patted Chloe’s shoulder and picked up her guitar case. “I’ve gotta get home. We need two more songs for the set, and a safety. You have any ideas?”

Chloe held up her hands. “That’s your department—you’ve slagged off my musical taste enough times. I’ll play whatever you think,” she said cheerfully.

Rae nodded, deep in thought. The problem was, she wasn’t sure how to go, now that she and Finn weren’t at war anymore. Like, should she just play the set she’d have played if they’d never brokered a truce? Should she send some sort of message with the set? To him, or to … everyone?

Once she got home and listened to her mum moan at her for ten minutes about missing dinner, she mumbled an apology and went up to her room to think about their set and wait for Finn to call. No, she wasn’t waiting. She was … making herself available to talk, should he HAPPEN to call. Shit, that didn’t sound any better.

When the phone rang, she was surrounded by a rainbow of CD liner booklets, looking at words of songs she knew by heart to see if they said something she wanted to say. She was so engrossed, she didn’t hear the first ring, or the second, but on the third, she shook herself from her reverie and jumped up to grab the phone from her desk.

“Hello?” she gasped into the phone, hearing her mum’s greeting echo hers a half-second later.

“Errr, hi, is Rae, um, Rachel at home?”

“Yeah, hi, it’s me, Finn. I got it, Mum!”

A tsk traveled down the phone, followed by the clunk of a receiver hanging up.

Now, it was just the two of them.

Rae glanced over at the clock on her desk. 8:00. Precisely. She smiled, and allowed herself to wonder if he’d been waiting, counting down the minutes, to call her exactly when the clock ticked onto the hour.

And then Finn said, “Is this okay? The time, I mean? Not interrupting’ anythin’ or anythin’?”

“No, not unless you count poring over liner notes ‘anythin’,” she sighed. “It’s probably good you called; forces me to take a break from it.”

“Yeah, I understand that. I’m … well, I’m rethinkin’ our whole set, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

_That_  was an intriguing piece of information.

* * * * *

Finn didn’t regret saying it. He had been rethinking lots of things just lately. The past few days had made him really wonder about what he was doing, and why. And what he got out of being the grumpy bastard in the leather jacket. The guy in the band who could have pretty much any girl he wanted … only it turned out he didn’t want just any girl. He wanted the one he’d spent ten months convinced didn’t want him, and that, as it turned out, was a lie.

So, yeah. He didn’t know that Rae was wondering what to say with her set, but he knew what he wanted to say with his: “I fucked up. I’m sorry. I really like you. No, like, REALLY like you.” Of course, he didn’t say any of that out loud. Instead he just said, “Yeah. Think we were playin’ it a little safe.”

A pause that seemed teasing followed, then Rae said, “And you don’t want to play it safe anymore?”

“Not where some things are concerned, no,” he said.  _Not where_ you’re _concerned_ , he thought.

“Hmmmm,” Rae hummed thoughtfully. “I’m caught between the message an’ the music, I think.”

“What’s that?” He’d heard her, but wanted to hear her explanation.

“Just … do I pick music that says somethin’? Or music that maybe doesn’t have a deep meanin’, but totally rocks? An’ if I want it to say somethin’ … well …”

“What,” Finn supplied.

“I said, if I want it to—“

“No, yeah, I got ya. I was just saying ‘what’ as in,  _what_  do ya want it to say?”

Another pause from Rae, before she said, “Yeah, exactly.”

Finn really wished that they could be doing this together, helping each other pick songs. Bounce ideas off each other and get swept up in crafting the best set for the show. She’d be the perfect person to work his puzzle out with. Well … she might just be the perfect person, full stop.

He still remembered their conversation; the one that prompted him to give her his number almost a year ago. She’d gotten so into her argument that she hadn’t noticed when he’d stopped arguing back. Her eyes shone, her cheeks burned a bright pink, and her mesmerizing mouth didn’t stop bangin’ on about Bowie’s Sweet Thing compared to Van Morrison’s Sweet Thing. How two songs with the same title could feel so different and mean such different things. And that’s when he thought he knew, until that paper ended up back in his bag and he clammed up, not willing to find out what happened, just feeling that he’d somehow ruined things.

“You still there?” Rae’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he nodded at nothing.

“Yeah! Yeah, sorry. Just … wish we could really talk about this stuff, but …”

He heard her sigh. “We can’t. Not really.”

“ _How_  long till the show again?” Finn asked, laughing half-heartedly.

“Three weeks,” Rae said. “Just before you have to start thinking about A-levels.”

He scoffed. A-levels could go fuck themselves, he thought. “Can we—would you meet me again tomorrow? Before school?”

It was silent for a moment. Then Rae ventured a quiet, “Why?”

This time, Finn didn’t think too much; didn’t get lost in a swirl of his imagination. He just said, “Because I want to see you. Because I can’t go back in time and kick my own arse about being a dickhead, but I can see you now. If ya want to see me, that is.”

“Yeah, I do.” He swore he could hear the smile curling her words up at the edges; at least, he hoped that’s what caused the change in her voice.

“Brilliant,” he smiled back. “See you tomorrow, then.”

They said ‘good night’ in unison and chuckled until they each hung up.


	3. Chapter 3

_A week and a half later …_

Izzy hastily shoved her drumsticks into the unzipped part of her backpack, rushing to leave practice.

“What’s up with you lately? You’ve been disappearin’ on us,” Chloe said, pointing at Izzy.

“Who, me? I-I’ve been … around. I’ve been to ev’ry practice, what else d’ya want?” She jutted her chin out defensively as she heaved her pack onto her back, ready to go.

“You show up exactly on time and bugger off as soon as we’re done. I haven’t seen ya outside school or practice in a couple o’ weeks. Right, Rae?” Chloe appealed to her other best friend.

“Hmm?” Rae was distracted, trying to get the opening riff to … right. “I guess we’ve all been busy … apart from practice, we’re getting close to exams.”

Izzy nodded in agreement, clearly happy someone was taking up her side in the matter, but Chloe held up a hand. “Wait! Before you disappear in a ginger cloud of smoke yet again, we’ve got to plan Rae’s makeover. The Battle of the Bands is in less than two weeks.”

Rae grimaced at this while Izzy bounced up on the balls of her feet. “Ooohh, yes!”

“Do we have to call it a makeover? It makes me feel like breakfast nook on Changing Rooms,” Rae groused.

“What about … upgrade? Enhancement?” Chloe mused.

“Glamorization? Or … prettification?” Izzy giggled.

“Ugh, they all sound awful. Like I’m not good enough to start with. Which, y’know, I KNOW, but it’s another thing to have it pointed out so blatantly,” Rae grumbled.

“Rae. Chel. Earl.” Chloe pronounced each syllable of her name like a separate word. “Stop that. This is not about making you ‘better’ or ‘good enough.’ You are awesome and amazing and the best. This is about making you REALIZE you’re all those things. It’s about picking out an outfit that you feel so kick-ass in that when you take the stage, you look like you signed the deed and OWN IT. It’s about having the control over what parts of you you feel best about and highlighting those. You want to show off your eyes? You line those babies in kohl darker than night. You want to show off your lips? We find the right red lipstick to make grown men cry when you sing into the mic with them.”

Chloe was punctuating her sentences by poking Rae in the upper arm. “Do you got it?” Another poke.

Rae was wide-eyed with wonder at the passionate speech that just poured out of her best friend. “Yeah, I got it. That … that sounds a lot better, actually.”

“Okay, then!” Chloe said, patting Rae’s upper arm gently for a change. “I thought you were doing better with all that confidence stuff lately, anyway. You’ve been smiling all the bloody time, and you haven’t whinged about Mr. Mardy Bum for a long while.” Chloe gave Rae a sidelong glance. “You haven’t gone soft on him, have ya? ‘Cause we’re only in this competition because YOU wanna beat him so bad, y’know?”

Rae nodded, examining a scuff on the toe of her Converse very closely. “Yeah, I know.” She bit her lip, her tongue, anything to stop her from confessing her secret …

She and Finn were … well, they were something. They weren’t nothing. They weren’t the rivals they’d become; it was like they’d gone back in time and changed that one moment and their timeline had altered. It was like those many months hadn’t happened, and in the place of their feud, they’d been friendly, but really, more than friends.

And she couldn’t tell anyone about it! It was maddening.

Finn called her every night, except for the nights she called him first. She could hear him smiling down the line at her when she beat him to the punch. And they met up most mornings before school at the coffee shop with half the Women’s Guild. They sat in the corner, holding hands and feeling full to the brim with happiness for that half an hour. But the rest of the time, she felt sneaky and dishonest and annoyed that they couldn’t just walk to school together, still holding hands, or meet at their lockers for a quick mid-day debrief.

After a week of this, one night Finn ventured the question over the phone: “Should we jus’ tell ‘em?”

Rae twisted the phone cord around her finger until the tip turned white and then shook it free.

“Y’still there?” Finn asked.

“Yeah, just … thinkin’.” She sighed. “We made such a big deal. An’ I really want to play the show. If we tell ‘em we’ve made up, that we’re …” She didn’t dare put a label to what they were, and rushed along to say, “Chlo and Iz might not want to bother with practices.”

There was a long pause on Finn’s end.

Now Rae asked if he was still there.

“Yeah, yeah.” Another mini-pause. “Yeah, that’s a fair point. Arch and Chop weren’t too enthused about playin’ again, thinkin’ it was … I dunno. Selfish? to play again when we’ve won three times runnin’.”

A flare of envy consumed Rae for a second. But she knew Finn well enough, well, she  _thought_  she did, to know he wasn’t trying to brag.

“Okay. So. We wait until after the show. Only a few more weeks … not even.”

Finn sighed, but he agreed.

* * * * *

After practice at Archie’s, Chop had started asking if he could freshen up.

“Hot date?” Archie asked, one eyebrow raised. When Chop merely shrugged, he nodded and said, “So long as all that grease goes down the drain and doesn’t sludge up my mum’s sink, fine.”

He and Finn were left alone, Finn working to figure out how to play the horn part on his guitar for[The Distance](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cno20onK9dY). “Should we leave this bit out, d’ya think? Or make it a vocal?”

Archie quirked his mouth in thought. “Try it as a chorus, linking it with the other ‘ _Ah-ah-ah-ah-AH_ ’ part and if that doesn’t work, drop it. You need the driving bass and the guitar line more.”

Finn nodded, going back to the chorus and playing it again, humming the horn part.

“Mate, I know this is weird to ask, because you’re, like, really upbeat lately, but …”

Finn gave Archie a quizzical look, and stopped his strumming.

“… is everythin’, y’know, okay? I mean, it seems okay, but you’re … totally … different. Like, you’ve never been this happy … It’s almost … scary.”

Finn scoffed. He started to form words to dispute his friend, to say he hadn’t changed that much, hardly at all, but he knew it wasn’t true. He felt the difference every day. And Archie was right. It was scary. Because if being around Rae, being with her, made him feel this good, then if the time came where they weren’t … he shook his head at the thought. It didn’t bear thinking about. Well, truthfully, he  _couldn’t_  bear to think of it.

“I jus’ … I dunno. I guess I just decided, what was bein’ a major dickhead doin’ for me? It jus’ … don’t seem worth it, I guess.” He shrugged and put his guitar pick in his mouth as he unplugged his guitar from the amp, chewing on the pick nervously, worried if he said anymore, they were going to be found out.

Archie pushed his glasses to the top of the bridge of his nose as his eyebrows adjusted up and down independent of each other, like they were integral to his processing of Finn’s words. “Well, I mean, if that’s all it is … that’s good.”

Finn nodded into his guitar case and pulled the mutilated pick out of the corner of his mouth, frowning at it.

“Did you pick the last song for the set yet?” Archie asked. “‘Cause I have a couple I’d suggest, if you can’t think of anythin’.”

Finn shook his head. “I’ll let you know tomorrow. I—I’m sorry I’ve been weird, I just … I need to pick this set. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, mate, it’s cool. I just—I was used to grumpy, confident Finn. I like this Finn, too, but I need to get to know him a little better, I guess.” Archie laughed, which made Finn chuckle a bit, too.

Chop came out of the bathroom in a clean Adidas top and jeans, his hair slicked down with water, coverall wadded up and shoved into his bag. “See you lads later!” he shouted on his way out the door.

“See ya later, dickhead!” Finn and Archie chimed in unison, shaking their heads at each other.

* * * * *

The day after Chloe gave Rae the pep talk, they went straight after school to the high street, looking for clothes to wear to the big gig.

Rae had rolled her eyes and groaned. “We’re practicin’ after, yeah?” she’d pleaded.

“Yeah, if there’s time,” Chloe replied.

Rae crossed her arms. That meant they wouldn’t be. She sulked around the shops, half-heartedly flicking through the racks, figuring she’d just slap on a bit more make-up, but wear her usual thing to the gig. She was certain this was just another excuse for Chloe to buy a new outfit for herself.

Chloe and Izzy had split up and were working through the store in weird patterns, flitting near Rae, then away. When they made their way to the changing rooms, she found a seat nearby and hugged a pillow to her chest, so when they came out in their cool clothes she could ooh and ahh in comfort.

“Raaaeee?” Chloe called from behind the curtain where the cubicles were.

“Yeeeaaah?” she called back, in a low whine.

“Can you come zip me into this thing?”

Rae sighed. “Can’t Iz do it?” she called back.

“No, I can’t! I’m … I’m in my knickers!” Iz shouted, giggling like mad.

Rae hoisted herself up out of the low chair, flinging the cushion behind her. “Fine, whatever,” she mumbled, shoving the curtain to one side, dreading having to see Chloe in some amazing outfit she couldn’t get her left calf inside.

She looked up to see her friends standing either side of a cubicle, Chloe holding the curtain back to reveal a whole changing room set up, outfits arranged, a small vase of daisies, a bottle of fizzy water. Iz and Chlo both had enormous grins taking up half their faces.

“No. Uh-uh. Nope!” Rae shook her head and spun on her heel, but Izzy sprang forward to catch hold of her wrist.

“Please, Rae, we wanted to make this as nice as possible; we know how much you hate this,” she said sweetly.

“We paid the shop assistant a tenner to tell everyone the cubicles were just sprayed for roaches, so no one’s gonna come in while we’re in here.” Chloe said, her voice firm and calm.

Rae glanced longingly back at the chair where she had been so much more comfortable thirty seconds ago, then gave her friends a sheepish smile. “Alrigh’, fine. Do your worst.”

Izzy clapped her hands in glee, while Chloe closed the curtain leading to the rest of the store, including the comfy chair, and they got to work.

* * * * *

When Finn called Rae that night, she sounded distracted, like her mind was somewhere else. He thought he could hear her voice change as she tucked the phone under her chin to do something else with her hands. Then, when the phone slipped and he heard her scrabble to retrieve it from under the bed, breathing an apology into it when she finally got the receiver back to her ear.

“Everythin’ okay? I mean, I guess we don’t hafta talk every night, if you’re busy or whatever.” He didn’t want to feel sad that she wasn’t giving him her undivided attention. He didn’t want to be that guy, the guy who got all petulant and pouty if a girl didn’t hang on his every word.

“No, sorry, sorry. I was jus’ … it’s embarrassin’. Chloe and Iz took me out shopping and, for once in my life, it wasn’t a total disaster. I’m jus’ puttin’ some stuff away. But I’m done now.” He heard what might have been a drawer closing, followed by her slumping on her bed, the springs creaking slightly in the silence after she finished talking.

“Oh!” he said, surprised. “That’s … good, right?” He liked the way she dressed, not too done up or trying too hard. He just thought she was cool; it never occurred to him that she’d like to dress another way, that she was dressing that way because she didn’t have as many choices as other girls. The sudden realization, all from her offhand remark, was sobering. Girls seemed to have a thousand extra things to worry about.

“Yeah, I s’pose. Now I jus’ need to work up the bottle to wear any of it,” she sighed.

Finn furrowed his brow. “Why wouldn’t ya wear it? You bought it, right?”

Rae laughed. “You’re such a boy sometimes, Finn. Sweet, maybe the sweetest, but such a boy!”

He felt only slightly affronted. He didn’t have a mum or sisters, so he didn’t get an up close and personal glimpse into the wild world of women’s fashion. He cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks?” he ventured.

“I’ll probably definitely wear one of the things I bought to the Battle of the Bands, so …”

“Oh, ‘probably definitely’ huh? As sure as that?” he gently mocked.

“As sure as I ever get about these things,” she said breezily.

Finn chewed on his lip, wishing he had another guitar pick to mangle. “Rae … I’m sure you’ll look amazin’. I—I think ya look amazin’ now, though, so …” He swallowed nervously. “Sometimes I feel like there are words I don’t know that I should be sayin’ instead of the crap my brain comes up with. But I want ya to know … you’re perfect no matter what ya wear. Because, well …” He mumbled the last bit, feeling like it was both too much and not enough: “… you’re you.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, but that actually seemed to indicate that she’d heard him.

“Finn,” she said, carefully.

“Yeah?” he asked, breathless with worry.

“Those were the words. The exact right ones.”

He smiled down the line, wishing, not for the first time, but with a greater intensity, that she were there with him. That he could see her face, touch her, hold her. They didn’t do nearly enough of that for his liking. He wasn’t sure any amount of touching her would be enough, but the current situation was definitely not adequate.

“Good,” he said. “I’m glad.” He took a breath before asking, “Tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah,” she said before he’d finished the second word of his question. “Umm, can you … that is, are you … ?” She struggled with her words for a moment, and Finn finally had to ask, “Yeah?”

“Just, I wondered if you wanted to meet a little bit earlier. Like, half seven? Just … sometimes I wa—“

“Yes,” he interrupted her. “Anytime. Whenever you want.”

“Okay, then,” she said, cheerfully. “See you tomorrow!”

“Bright and early,” he grinned.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a case of how fanfic is pretty interesting. Because I got a few people asking me, “Have they had their first kiss yet?” and when I thought about it, I had an answer. So this chapter (there will be one more, sort of an epilogue) deals with that and a few other things. 
> 
> Things I’m worried about with this chapter: it’s less funny; it is maybe a little too thinky; there’s not as much music stuff, and the action is perhaps a little rushed. BUT, I’ve been tinkering with it for several days now, editing and shaping, and OVERALL, I like it. The next (and final) bit will be back to form, I believe. So, here this is; I hope you enjoy it, too!

Finn was leaning against the brick wall, waiting for her as usual, only half an hour earlier. She zipped her jacket up another inch, a little bundled up for May, and kept her head down to hide both her face and the smile on it. When she got close enough for him to reach out for her hand, he started toward the coffee shop, clearly thinking she’d follow. Instead, Rae shook her head and linked hands with his, leading him away in the opposite direction, turning down a side street.

“Where are we goin’?” Finn asked, sounding as if he didn’t really care.

“You’ll see,” Rae said in a sing-song.

They turned down more alleys and side streets and then up Drift Lane. It only took a few minutes, but Rae felt antsy, like there wasn’t a moment to lose.

She pulled a key out of her pocket and opened a wooden door in the middle of a brick wall and turned back to see Finn hesitating for a moment. “Come on,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her with a shrug of her shoulder.

He followed her through the doorway and on the other side, stood in awe for a moment. “This is … what is this?” he asked, reverently.

“It’s the Women’s Institute allotments,” Rae said, head still hung low.

“When’d ya join the WI?” he laughed.

“My neighbor, Mrs. Dewhurst, she’s the gardener. I asked if I could borrow her key for a very good cause, in exchange for weedin’ her beds, of course.”

“Well, it’s … this place is really … somethin’,” Finn awkwardly declared. He turned to look at her and finally noticed that something was up. “Y’alright?” he asked, noting her stooped posture. “You’re not catchin’ a cold, are ya?” gesturing to her zipped-up jacket on a perfectly pleasant morning.

Rae bit her lip behind her curtain of hair, and then took a deep breath, sighed and stood up straight, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she unzipped her jacket. She looked away over her shoulder at the partitioned beds of flowers, herbs, and vegetables, each plot with it’s own little shed, to distract her from knowing what Finn thought of her transformation.

In place of her usual boxy crew neck band t-shirt, she wore a V-neck blue plaid tee that accentuated her shape. She wore her usual leggings, but instead of the plain black mini skirt that she owned in multiple, she wore a kicky pleated kilt, only an inch or two longer than the mini. She missed her Converse most of all, because these boots, though they had a low heel, the pointy toes were taking some getting used to. Though she had to admire the studded strips of leather that criss-crossed her ankles. She’d been studying them a lot on her walk this morning.

Finn was taking in the changes from the neck down for a while, but finally looked up to her face. She’d gotten up at 6:15 to wash her hair and do her make up. She wasn’t brave enough to wear the red lipstick today, but she’d lined her eyes and used mascara, lip gloss, even a hint of blush, though she didn’t need help in that area at the moment. Finn’s mouth hung open, gaping, and Rae was starting to get nervous that he hadn’t said anything.

“It’s too much, right? I just … we were talkin’ last night and I thought, ‘I’ll show him somethin’ different,’ but this … this was a bad idea.” She turned to go back to the street, but Finn caught her hand.

“Wait, Rae!”

She froze, not wanting to look back at him. She wanted to be halfway home; no, she wanted to be  HOME, wiping the stuff off her face and taking the clothes back to the store.

“Rae, look at me, please.”

She squinted, trying to shield herself from any pity in his gaze, but she turned to face him.

“Rae, you look amazin’. You look … fantastic! Just, I’m a bit speechless, is all. I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t like it, because I do, I really really do.” He reached out to grasp her other hand, too. They were only a couple of feet apart. Rae met his gaze briefly before her eyes flitted away to look at something else, anything else.

“It’s not, y’know, too much?” she mumbled. “I thought … maybe for the show, but maybe …”

“It’s not too much, Rae. It’s … you. You look like you, only … turned up to eleven.” Finn squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“Spinal Tap?” she asked, the ‘really?’ silent.

“You totally go to eleven,” Finn quipped.

She smiled, huffing a laugh from behind her teeth. Then, Finn pulled her arms towards him and before she knew it, they were hugging. Like, every part of her from chest to hip was touching him hugging. She was surprised, and it took her a few seconds before she thought to hug back, but when she did, Finn hugged her harder. After a long moment, they let go and each shuffled back, shy. Despite this, Finn darted forward to kiss her cheek. His lips felt warm  on her already flushed skin, and he smelled of CK One, which made an indelible instant memory and endeared him to her even more. Until she realized she hadn’t worn any scent; she probably stunk of the Mum roll-on deodorant her own mum bought her. She pulled back, making sure to smile, so he wouldn’t think she hadn’t enjoyed it.

Rae spied a bench snugged up next to one of the nearby sheds, and stumbled over to it. When she sat, she made sure there was enough room for Finn, if he wanted to join her. He did.

“This place is cool,” he said, when he was settled. “But why did we come here, instead of getting coffee?”

Rae swallowed, hesitating. “I … if you didn’t like it, or … I dunno. Just didn’t want a bunch of old ladies givin’ me dirty looks.” She sighed. “I still might go home and change before college.”

Finn shook his head. “Why?”

“Just … they’ll take the piss. The other girls at school, Simmy and his mates, Mrs. Lomax, even.”

“Well, you can do what you want, obviously, whatever you think best, but I think you look fuckin’ awesome. If anyone takes the piss, it’s only because they wish they looked as good as you do.” Finn reached over to hold her hand, gripping it tight. Their clasped hands rested on her thigh. She looked over at him to see his face all earnestness, dark eyes shining. Before she even knew what she was doing, she leaned in, eyes fluttering shut just as her lips touched his. She could feel the surprise in his soft lips; he wasn’t ready. She pulled back, apologies on a loop on the lips she’d just kissed him with.

“No, Rae, I’m sorry, I jus’ didn’t expect—“

“I know; I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve … I didn’t understand. I thought, well maybe I—“

Now she was surprised, cut off mid-ramble by him kissing her. She held her breath, getting dizzy as he ran his tongue along her lower lip. He shifted closer, reaching his left arm to hook around the crook of her hip, pulling her towards him. It seemed strange for her arm to be hanging useless by her side, so she snaked it up his arm, across his shoulder and into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He sighed at her touch and she let herself breathe a bit before they locked lips once more.

When they pulled out of the kiss, Finn murmured, with eyes half-lidded, “Y-you don’t ever hafta apologize for kissin’ me, Rae. I just … couldn’t believe it was happenin’. Thought maybe I was dreamin’ for a minute, is all.”

“Y-you didn’t mind?” Rae asked, voice quiet.

“MIND?” Finn shouted back. He shook his head and laced his fingers through Rae’s. “You’re—“

“—crazy?” Rae supplied, biting her lip.

“—somethin’ else. You’re somethin’ else, Rachel Earl.”

Rae laughed, then sighed. “Do we have to go to college? I’d much rather—“

“—do this all day?” Finn asked, kissing her again and again, then dragging his lower lip along her jaw before kissing her neck.

She felt breathless, even when his lips weren’t on hers but were instead happily occupied with the sensitive skin just under her earlobe. Her heart was racing, light, like it was pumping so fast she couldn’t keep any blood in it. And her lungs were heavy, since she could couldn’t keep any air in them. She took as deep a breath as she could and sighed, “Well, yeah, of course, but …”

Finn reluctantly prised his mouth from her neck. “But?”

She stared at him, looking at his eyes that were darting between her eyes and her lips, and she forgot what else she might want to do. “Hmmm?” she hummed in question.

* * * * *

There are times when you’re young that the rest of your life recedes like a low tide, almost everything fades away, and you become obsessed with one thing. Your thing. Maybe it’s a band, or a book, or a place, or an idea. But sometimes, it’s a person.

And when your obsession is another person who happens to also be obsessed with you, well, that’s something else. It can be dangerous; there were cautionary tales all over the place about falling too deep too fast, but they didn’t often tell you that it was like … discovering a new land. Or, no, it was like finding a new element. One of those unstable and mercurial ones at the end of the chart, that might only last for a moment in the right environment. But it was like … creating something. Where once there was nothing, suddenly a door in your soul opens and there are rooms you didn’t know existed, and the walls of these previously undiscovered rooms are already covered in pictures of this person. Your person.

Finn was finding all of this out in this kiss. This longed-for, yearned-for, yet somehow still completely unexpected kiss. He’d wanted this for what seemed like a very long time. He’d wanted to kiss her all those months ago, when she was banging on about Bowie at the pub. He’d wanted to kiss her before, during, and after every Battle of the Bands. He’d wanted to kiss her whenever he saw her, and then, starting a few weeks ago, he wanted to kiss her all the time. Waking, sleeping, eating, playing the guitar, whatever he happened to be doing, at the back of it thrummed this WANT.

But he’d hesitated. Held himself back and tried to read the signs, figure out when might be an opportune time to press his lips to hers and finally KNOW. He already knew, but he figured that this would be like a double confirmation. But he knew it would change everything, too, so that’s why he didn’t go blundering towards her face, lips pursed, the first chance he got, even though he really really REALLY wanted to.

And on this morning, dew sparkling on the gardens growing all around them, sun climbing higher in the sky, slight chill in the early air, he hadn’t expected any of it. To be brought here by this amazing girl, to be shown something she wasn’t sure she could show anyone else.

He marveled at her, but also wondered where that girl who hadn’t been afraid to roll her eyes at him had gotten to. The girl who muttered ‘prick’ under her breath when he acted like a knobhead in front of her and her mates. The girl who wailed on the guitar in front of a hundred people under blazing hot lights and barely broke a sweat. Where was she?

She was here, but in this garden behind a wall, with it’s early Spring blooms and buds, she was shy. Shy in front of him, the person who only wanted her to be exactly who she was. But maybe … maybe this was okay. Because now he knew that she had to bluff her way through life, the same as he was doing. Maybe she wasn’t as bold and ballsy as she appeared on the surface. Maybe, underneath, she was a mass of insecurities stitched together, and this was her lifting the veil, showing him one or two of the things she was unsure about. Maybe she knew where she was with band t-shirts and Converse and rejecting people before they could reject her, but she wasn’t so sure about showing those four inches of skin below her clavicle, or looking like she’d tried, or standing in front of a boy and hoping he would like what he saw.

These were the thoughts swirling in his brain when she’d kissed him. And then his body had seized up, unable to process this fantastic thing that was happening to him, and he’d had to explain. Explain that of course he didn’t mind, of COURSE he wanted her to kiss him. It was all he ever wanted to do for the rest of his life.

But it only ended up being what he did for the rest of the hour, however many minutes until the church bells chimed eight times and they startled apart, both sheepish and shy and pink with happiness.

He wanted to bunk off so badly, and do this kissing thing for the rest of the day, or maybe forever.

But just then, the door from the street opened and a white haired woman gasped at the two of them, embracing by the potting shed. They stood up quickly, Rae shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket. Finn threaded his arm through the crook of her elbow, smiled apologetically at the septuagenarian, and led Rae out to the street.

He exhaled a concentrated sigh and looked at Rae’s face, which was tipped down toward the pavement. He knocked her gently on the chin and when she looked to his eyes wonderingly, he asked, “Coffee?”

* * * * *

_Ten hours later …_

Rae pushed her way into the music room with her guitar case, letting it swing as she strode to to the amp in the corner. She was still wearing the outfit she’d met Finn in, but she wasn’t drunk with young love anymore. The day had taken a 180 and she was currently pissed. as. hell. She just wanted to let her fingers fly across the strings and let out her frustrations.

She’d been right to be wary about going to school like this. Stacey Stringfellow had clucked her tongue at Rae in the hallway as she and Chloe were hurrying to History and sneered, “Isn’t it sweet to see a big girl tryin’ for once?”

Chloe had swung around and made as if to retort, but Rae put a hand on her arm and shook her head. “It ain’t worth it, Chlo.” Chloe’s eyes flashed in anger at the imperious blonde, but she bit her tongue.

Then Simmy and his mates swaggered up to her at lunch, arms held out in front of them like a pack of ungainly primates. “See you’re finally showin’ off the only assets you have, Earl.” He leered down her top and his friends hooted behind him. This time little Izzy started to stand up, her jaw jutting out in adorable indignation, but Rae put out her hand again, shaking her head. “Not worth it, Iz,” she sighed, watching the pack saunter back to their table.

Then, at the end of the day, she had seen Mrs. Lomax give her a dismissive once over, sniffing with disapproval, and her vision blurred with tears which she did not let fall.

Once she’d blinked them back, she saw red instead. When Chloe and Izzy showed up moments later, they all three played their anger into their instruments: Rae’s guitar notes quavering, voice keening on the high notes; Chloe’s bass notes pulsing roughly; Izzy’s drums pounding faster and faster, speeding them up so they played their set twice through in under their allotted hour.

When they were done, packing up and wiping the sweat from their brows, Chloe looked at her friends and simply said, “Pub.”

*

Rae hadn’t wanted to go, not in the clothes that had gotten her shit since the moment she walked into school, but she could tell Chloe wasn’t going to take no for an answer. So, the three of them invaded the pub, scowls on their faces.

Rae went up to the bar to get their round in. She was nearly six feet and well-endowed, so she never had to vouch for her age. Tonight, she didn’t have to wait long; the barman was very attentive. “Evenin’, darlin’” he drawled. “What can I get ya tonight?” He aimed a very direct smile at her and her shoulders relaxed while other parts of her tensed and tingled. She sighed with relief and placed her order, glancing over her shoulder when he went off to pull her pint of cider and pour her friends’ drinks. Her breath caught in her throat. There, in the opposite corner to Chloe and Izzy, was Finn and his mates. “Shit,” she muttered. They hadn’t rehearsed this, or planned for how they would behave with each other in public.

A moment later, the barman slid the tray with her drinks on it with a cheerful wink and she flushed as she picked it up. She made a beeline for their table, not looking once over at Finn.

Setting the glasses around the table, she kept her head down. Chloe raised her glass. “To rockin’ out like bad bitches!” Izzy and Rae clinked glasses with her and they all drank.

Then, Chloe spied Finn across the way and scoffed. “Oh, look. It’s your favorite person, Rae.” She rolled her eyes and gestured behind Rae. Rae took a breath, silently and quickly counted to ten, and glanced back. He seemed to be studiously avoiding her gaze by watching the bubbles in his pint glass. Turning back, she shrugged. “So it is.”

Chloe and Izzy looked a little surprised at Rae’s lack of reaction.

“I thought after the day you’ve had, you’d be only too happy to lay into him a bit … I mean, you hate him, right?” Chloe asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“I … I … yeah. I mean, I feel pretty much the same as I ever did about him.” Rae shrugged and felt in her pocket for a 20p. Her fingers caught hold of one and she stood up. “I’m gonna play somethin’ on the jukebox. Any requests?”

Izzy and Chloe looked surprised, but shook their heads. “You know your music better’n us, Rae,” Izzy chirped.

Her forefinger punched at the right arrow button, flipping through the albums. She thought about playing the Beastie Boys, but instead, a cover that featured a dark haired girl with a black heart next to her caught her eye and she punched in 6-9-0-1, nodding her head to the beat as Bad Reputation started up.

Finn was headed over to the jukebox, too, and her eyes locked onto his for a moment. He looked at her, concerned, but she gave him a quick shake of her head, hoping it would look like she was flipping her hair out of her eyes to her friends. She didn’t want to give the game away. She didn’t want to have to tell Finn, in this most public place, about the terrible day she had after she’d left him. She quickly sat back down with her friends and sipped her drink in misery.

* * * * *

Finn didn’t know what to do when Rae and her friends walked in. She had a strange air of angry defeat about her as she strode to the bar. When the barman gave her a rangy smile, he shifted in his seat, uncomfortable and vaguely jealous.

He hadn’t wanted to come to the pub, but Chop and Archie harangued him into it, telling him off for disappearing on them so much lately. So he sat there, laughing a half beat behind every joke, not really listening. He was thinking about Rae. That’s all he’d done all day, and he’d wanted to hurry home and call her and hear her voice, warm and quiet in his ear.

The din of the pub swirled around him, around her, eddying like a river, and he wanted to be swept over to her, but held himself back.

When she’d gotten up, he held his breath, and then she’d played his favorite Joan Jett song and his heart grew three sizes. She quickly dismissed his impulse, though. Now, he felt chained and jittery. He desperately wanted to go over and sit next to her, hold her hand, take her to the beer garden and kiss her until their lips were bruised purple, but he couldn’t. She didn’t want him to.

Finn felt Archie elbow him. “Oi, Earth t’Finn! Y’alright?”

He nodded in slow motion. “Yeah, just … thinkin’. Sorry.”

“No worries, mate. Finish your drink and then you’re free to piss off home.” Archie grinned widely, pushing up his glasses by the bridge.

Finn rolled his eyes at him and loosened up for the first time all night. Just as he decided to get another round in, the pub doors swung open precipitously and a ginger twat stalked in with his group of dickhead disciples.

“Fuckin’ Simmy,” Chop muttered. He stood up to go to the bar. Archie suddenly became very interested in the design on his beermat, and Finn was bracing himself for the worst. He wasn’t sure what that was, but Rae had told him about Simmy giving her grief from time to time.

Simmy was surveying the pub, looking for someone to say something to. He was just a mouth, and a loud one at that. When Simmy spotted Rae, Finn lurched forward in his seat, but Archie didn’t notice.

Bad Reputation came to an end with “NOT ME!” and the pub fell quiet as the jukebox reeled onto the next selection. Finn could just about make out Simmy’s “Well, well, well …” but couldn’t stop himself from jolting onto his feet. This time Archie looked up, confused.

“Uh, jus’ gonna get another drink. Y’want anythin’?” He didn’t even glance at Archie or hear if he did; he just bumbled around the edge of the table, straining to hear what was being said.

“ … nice to see the girls again.” Simmy leered at Rae like maybe he’d leered at her before, maybe a lot. Finn held his breath hear the rest. “Shame they’re so often wasted on fat lasses. Still if ya can keep yer eyes on the prize you don’t mind as much …”

Finn froze in the middle of the pub, his hand wrapping around itself into a fist. Rae stood up, grabbing her bag of the back of her chair, muttering a hurried “I—I’ve gotta go, Chlo. Iz. See yas tomorrow, yeah.”

She turned away from Simmy, looking for the door, and instead saw Finn. Now she froze and they stared at each other like two marble statues. She glanced down, and must have seen how white his knuckles were, the skin straining over the joints of his fingers. Her mouth opened as Finn pulled his arm back, gearing up to deck the ginger twat currently laughing like a drain with his mates.

Before he could get enough momentum to lunge forward, she grabbed him by the arm that was flexed and ready to destroy, and dragged him outside into the beer garden.

*

Filled with all that momentum and adrenaline which had built up and fizzled out, he feel sour and dazed, cranky and turned around. Like a cat that’s been moved against its will to a new home and doesn’t know where anything is and is too angry and annoyed to venture from under the bed. From some science class, Finn vaguely recalled that energy is neither created nor destroyed, so all that potential energy that never became kinetic was still jangling around inside him.

“What the fuck?” he asked, irritably, though he very well knew what the fuck was.

“Just what were you plannin’ to do in there, Finn?” Rae asked, hand on her hip, head cocked to one side, eyes flashing, lips … pursing … He had to swallow to get himself to concentrate.

“I dunno! Just … no one should talk to ya like that! I mean, even I, when I thought ya didn’t like me … it’s not right! You’re …”

“I’m  _what_?” Rae snapped, testily. “And don’t say ‘ _somethin’ else_ ’—say … say somethin’ that MEANS somethin’. Use a word, Finn.”

Finn ran his twitchy fingers across the back of his neck. “Well, I was gonna say ‘amazin’, but I don’t know if that meets your criteria. I mean, it is a word, an’ it’s what I THINK I mean, but you’ve got me … all turned ‘round.”

Rae furrowed her brow and bit her lip, but it looked like she was trying not to smile. She walked over to a picnic table and sat down, placing her backpack on the table and unzipped it. She pulled out a battered paperback, and opened it to the front. Squinting in the low light of the garden, she read, “ _Amazing (adjective)_ _:_ _causing great surprise or wonder; astonishing; startlingly impressive. Synonyms include:_ _astounding_ _,_ _surprising_ _,_ _stunning_ _,_ _shocking_ _,_ _breathtaking,_ _sensational_ _,_ _remarkable_ _,_ _spectacular_ _,_ _stupendous_ _,_ _phenomenal_ _,_ _extraordinary_ _,_ _incredible_ _…_ _wondrous._ ”

While she was reading aloud, Finn channelled all his leftover potential energy into smiling, and hadn’t even realized it until his cheeks started to hurt.

Rae had kept her eyes focused on the page, not looking at him until she finished the list of synonyms, all of which applied to her, in Finn’s opinion. When she finally met his gaze, Finn could see the outdoor lights by the pub exit reflected in the tears in her eyes.

“You don’t really think that,” she mumbled, just as he said, still grinning, “You carry a dictionary around with you?”

Then, at the same time again, Finn protested, “Yes, I do!” and Rae grumbled, “Yeah, just another weirdo trait.”

They were locked in a unison-talking competition that was interrupted by the pub door swinging open and Chloe, Izzy, Chop and Archie tumbling out into the yard.

“What’s goin’ on here, then?” Chloe asked, defensively. She’d just seen her best friend get harassed by a ginger twat, and knew the day Rae had had. Her arms crossed in front of her chest menacingly, elbows jutting out as a dare to try and mess with her or her friend.

“Rae …” Finn appealed to her. “Can’t we just … tell ‘em?”

Rae shook her head slowly, disbelievingly. Her face nearly fell in on itself, that’s how quickly her smile faded. “I’m sorry; I—can’t  … I mean, I knew it wouldn’t last. I hoped we could make it to the show, and then tell this lot and they’d shake their heads and smile and say … I dunno, ‘we always thought there was somethin’ there’. But there wasn’t, not really. Whatever this was, it wasn’t meant to last. I should’ve known it would be this way.” She turned to go, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Finn sprang forward. “Rae, Rae, wait! What’s happened??? Some bastard ran his mouth and I wanted to deck him, so what? I don’t care about any of that!”

Rae turned her head over her shoulder, “Well, I DO!”

“Why???”

She stopped at that, seeming unsure how to answer. She just whispered, “What?”

“Why do you care if I knock out that WANKER? Why do you care what a pub full of people think? Or even what our friends think? You care about all that more? More than you care about me, about what I think?”

“I—I … I don’t know, okay? No, I guess not. But—“

“But WHAT?” Finn knew he sounded desperate, clawing, anxious. He didn’t care. He needed to understand. Understand her and how she thought, so that he could do what was right for her, for them.

After a long moment, in a small voice, she said, “You don’t know what it’s like.”

Finn moved a little closer. Slowly and oh so careful, like he was approaching an animal who might run at any second. Then he took a shaky breath. “Maybe I don’t. But I want to. And here’s what I do know: I like you. So much. Maybe the most.”

Rae sighed and stared at the ground, one of those tears that had been pooling in her eyes finally making an escape down her cheek. “Why?” she whispered.

“What?” Finn whispered back.

“Why? Why d’ya like me?”

“Whhh—?” He sputtered and stalled as his brain worked double-time to form an answer for something that, to him, simply felt like a basic fact, but no words came. Reasons washed through him: Because he simply couldn’t imagine NOT liking her. Because she was who she was and she was who he had always wanted. Because it was an indisputable fact and here she was, trying to dispute it.

When he spoke, he stuttered, “B-because I do! Because … I just … DO. I tried NOT to like ya for MONTHS, and it didn’t work. I CAN’T not like ya, Rae.” She needed more, and he knew it. He had to take a minute to form his thoughts. “When ya didn’t take my number, when I felt like that was you telling me I wasn’t cool enough, even THAT didn’t stop me likin’ ya, Rae. I can hardly believe ya like ME.” After all that talking, Finn needed to take a deep breath, look away. Head down, he muttered, “I could ask ya the same.”

A long silence followed, and he finally looked up to see Rae’s face wondering  _What?_  at him.

“I mean, why d’ya like ME, Rae? What is it about me, the guy who tried to freeze ya out? The guy who couldn’t handle the thought of ya not liking me so I acted like a total prick? What’s so great about ME?”

“Well—“ Rae started. “I mean … you’re … you’re … you. You’re Finn Nelson.”

“Yeah? So? Who the fuck is that? And who the fuck cares?”

“You’re … well … you’re this amazing” here she grinned “unexpectedly sweet guy who also happens to play bass in the best band in Stamford. You kiss like a demon possessed, and … you really know your music!”

Finn blinked at her, not saying a word. He took another wary step towards her when the quartet they’d forgotten about started clapping and whooping their approval.

Finn looked over to see Chop grab Izzy in a bear hug, him giving her a great big kiss, and he wanted nothing more than to do the same to Rae. However, he needed to know how she was feeling. He glanced back to see Rae right there, close enough to touch. He reached up to wipe a tear from off her cheek and, for the second time that day, Rae leaned forward first, bridged the gap first, kissed first.

When they finally stopped pressing their faces and bodies together with desperate and wild abandon, Finn heard Archie ask, “So, do we still have to play Battle of the Bands?”

They didn’t take their eyes off of each other, but both answered, in a true unison this time: “YES!”


End file.
